


a beginning that will never end

by infestedpiano



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And they were gay, Flirting, Flowers, M/M, Romance, Stars, Summer, Sweet, but you better fucking take it, i don't know what this is, listen man, oh my god they were gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:08:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infestedpiano/pseuds/infestedpiano
Summary: It starts like this, a boy with a head filled to the brim with mindless fantasies about finding himself meets a boy who's words drip from his silver tongue like honey, sluggish and sweet.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	a beginning that will never end

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the schlattburr channel on the discord server, ya'll cool

When Schlatt meets Wilbur the sun is starting to dip in the horizon, painting the sky chock full of colors. Magenta and violet and tangerine. His toes dig into the sand below him, and it's somewhat satisfying how the texture squirms. The beach dips into the small area where there's wood stabbed into the ground to create a fence that keeps Mrs. Amelia's animals from roaming free. There bushes dig into the ground, small fragrant flowers growing on them. The aroma is thick and pungent, fruity and warm with hints of honey and ripe citrus. 

Schlatt's already sucked the nectar from the white honeysuckles, citrus smell digging under his nails. The sun beats down on him, sunburn cradling the nape of his neck. It's quite annoying, but he's grown used to it. When he crouches down, the grass stains his pants a light color.

It starts like this, a boy with a head filled to the brim with mindless fantasies about finding himself meets a boy who's words drip from his silver tongue like honey, sluggish and sweet.

Wilbur's hair curls up at the edges from the summer heat, sap from sweetgum trees dirtying his hands. There's salt on Schlatt's skin from the spray of the waves, and something wild in his chest that's grown through his ribcage and flourishes in the hot and stickiness of the summer.

Their eyes lock, and electricity sparks the air for a second before Wilbur dips his head and runs. Schlatt watches, blunt words on the tip of his tongue.

It starts like this, Wilbur is in the midst of waving fields of grain, and Schlatt is about to fall from a tree into the brunette's path.

"Ow! What the hell!" Wilbur blinks at the sprawled out boy in front of him, curses flying from his mouth quicker than forked lightning. Their eyes lock, and the air stills.

"Oh, hi." 

Wilbur swallows back the dryness in his throat, "Hello."

It starts like this, the neon flashing glow of a gas station late at night, Wilbur briefly skimming over tabloids that read out about celebrity scandals. Schlatt sits beside him, and the two joke and banter like old friends. There's something vibrant about Schlatt, how he waves his hands as he talks and complains when coins from his wallet spill onto the dirty ground.

Under the pale moonlight, Wilbur traces arbitrary lines between the freckles on Schlatt's arms from the summer heat.

It starts like this, with Schlatt dragging Wilbur to his car, and the wind whipping at his face when he sticks it out the window. When Schlatt spares a glance at the other boy, he thinks that he looks jagged and beautiful, like a messy sketch of something far better than you can just draw.

The car finally stops upon a beach, bunches of succulents exploding in growth by the seaside. Schlatt instructs Wilbur how to break them apart with his nail, and they leave the boy's fingers sticky. 

Schlatt pushes the other into the water, and sea salt clings to the air around them as the two tousle in the waves. Eventually the two crawl out of the ocean, sand digging into their wet clothes.

"That's Mars, the bright red one." Schlatt follows where Wilbur's finger is pointed. The stars are explosive overhead, and when Wilbur shifts closer electricity ricochets from every place their skin touches.

For a moment he thinks of ripe citrus, of neon lights, of sea salt and bright red stars and messy sketches. Then the moment pulls, snaps, breaks, it falls to pieces right in front of them. 

"Your hands are sticky."

Schlatt grins.

It ends like this, with Schlatt tracking sand into the local bakery, and sliding in next to a bewildered Wilbur. The other boy wrinkles his nose at the smell of sea salt that always seems to cling to Schlatt's tan skin.

It feels like every cell in Schlatt's body is buzzing to lie, the taste of apricot tarts in his mouth, soft and sweet. The sound of Wilbur's laugh trickling into his ears, lovely and vibrant and making Schlatt want to hear them on repeat over and over again.

The two exit the small bakery, laughter unfurling under summer heat and a wild emotion waving in the summer breeze. The moment stretches like warm taffy, and Schlatt slings an arm over Wilbur's shoulder just to pull him closer.

Hands tug at his hair, lips connecting with his and sending a jolt through his chest. His face grows cherry red, illuminated by the street lamp placed next to them.

"You taste sweet."

Schlatt sucks in a breath, "Yeah?"

Wilbur hums, "I like it."


End file.
